Page 3 of Sapphire

“I love it when I make you come so fast that you can’t speak.” Mateo leans over and presses a chaste kiss against my prickly cheek. “Told you I could make you come in five minutes.”

My heart is still racing as I busily tuck myself back in.

Moments later, the limousine stops at our gate, and Mateo gives my hand a quick squeeze, giving me a look that tells me he is going to devour me as soon as we are alone in our summer house here in Ibiza.

The car has stopped for longer than it normally would for the gates to open. Mateo presses the button to bring down the privacy screen and talks to the driver.

“What’s going on?” Mateo asks.

“Something is blocking the gate, Sir. Francisco is checking it out,” the driver advises.

Mateo and I jump out of the limousine to see our bodyguard staring down at something lying in front of the gates.

“Stay back,” Francisco hisses at Mateo and me.

When we look down again, we realize it’s a bloodied body.

2

ZOE

“Hi, Mum.” I wave at the computer screen.

“Hey, sweetheart, how are you?” Mum crackles through the bad internet connection. I’m shocked that she even has an internet connection, seeing as she is currently living in the middle of nowhere. And when I say in the middle of nowhere, I mean she’s living on the tiniest speck of sand halfway between Australia and the United States. Right on the equator, in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, on an island called Kiribati.

My dad is the Australian Ambassador there, one of the many overseas stations he has had during my lifetime. Growing up, we were always shuffling from one location to the next. My sisters and I have lived in many places over the years: Kenya, Samoa, the United States, Saudi Arabia, and Japan, just to name a few.

That’s why I’m currently studying for my Masters in languages at Universitat Autonoma de Barcelona. One day I want to work for the United Nations as an interpreter . I still remember the day when I was ten and Dad took us to visit the United Nations in New York. I got to sit in the linguistics department and listen to the interpreters help the delegates understand what was going on. Best. Day. Ever. I knew then what I wanted to do. I’m lucky, languages come easily to me, and I could pick up the local language everywhere we went.

“Things are going great, Mum. I love it here. Gracie is visiting this weekend from The Hague. It’s been too long.”

My younger sister, Grace, wants to be the next Amal Clooney. She is currently interning for the International Court of Justice in The Hague, the Netherlands, in their legal matters department, fighting global dictators and trying them for crimes against humanity. Well,sheisn’t. Grace is one of the low-paid people trying to work their way up to fight crime, but she loves it anyway. I haven’t seen her in about a year and miss her so much; she is my partner in crime when we get together.

“You give her a big hug for me and tell her she needs to call more often,” Mum suggests. “So, have you met any eligible bachelors yet?” she asks while wiggling her eyebrows at me. The computer freezes at the wrong moment and Mum looks crazy. I quickly take a screenshot of it and send it to her. A couple of moments later, the image unfreezes, and I can hear her screeching as she gets my text.

“Oh, my god, that’s hideous,” she says, laughing at her image.

“You always told us not to make faces because if the wind changes, we would look like that.” I laugh with her.

Mum rolls her eyes at me. “Don’t think I forgot you didn’t answer my question, young lady.” She wags her finger at me.

“Mum, I’m so busy with school, I don’t have time to date.” It’s the truth, plus my luck with men has been bad.

“Sweetie, you are in the prime of your life. I know school is a big portion of your life but … you need to have fun. All of you girls work too damn hard, and I worry.”

Mum and Dad sure created overachieving girls.

My oldest sister, Mackenzie, is currently working with Doctors Without Borders in Haiti.

Sophie, the second eldest, works in the Middle East as a correspondent for CNN.

We are most definitely career-driven women who don’t have time for men, judging by all my sisters’ single statuses.

“What happened to that boy, Gerard?”

Dropping my head, I answer her, “I found him kissing someone else.” That was humiliating. The boy you are kind of dating invites you to his house party, and you decline because of an assignment, finish said assignment early, walk into the party, and see him sucking face with some random girl. I might have accidentally hit him in the face when he grabbed me as I left the party. It was automatic self-defense, I didn’t think. When we were living in Africa, my father insisted we learn, and there were some Israeli soldiers who were staying on our property, who were part of the security team. They taught my sisters and me Krav Maga, which is a particular type of self-defense taught to the Israeli Defense Forces. I loved it so much that I continued learning it. I sometimes forget how strong I can be. Unfortunately, when he grabbed me, I reacted and hit his nose, which instantly began pouring with blood. I felt horrible, but not enough to forgive him. It was not my finest moment, but at least it showed the men on campus that I shouldn’t be messed around on, which probably explains my single status.

“Oh, well … maybe this weekend you and Gracie can let your hair down and have some fun for me. I live vicariously through you all.”

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